An Evening to Remember
by Story Please
Summary: Severus Snape doesn't mean to find trouble, but trouble always seems to know just how to find him. When he responds to a bulletin board ad on a whim, he soon finds himself in over his head. Then again, sometimes it is when things seem darkest that an unexpected light can truly shine its brightest.


Author's Note: Written for Round 5 for Season 6 of the QLFC

Round 5: Borrowed Inspiration

Team: Pride of Portree

Position: Captain

Captain's Prompt: Inspiration from one of my Keeper's (Arhtea's) titles: "No Questions Asked."

Word Count: 3,000

Beta Love: Sehanine- thanks, you rock!

* * *

 **An Evening to Remember**

It started out, innocuously enough, when Severus happened upon a bulletin board at the local library. He hadn't planned on going in, but it was an unusually hot day outside, and he was clad in heavy wool robes.

He was made aware that his sense of style left much to be desired when one of the librarians gave him the stink-eye from her reference desk. Quickly, he turned to face the community bulletin board and tried to look busy. That was when he saw the advertisement.

 _WANTED: An unpleasant bastard to take to dinner. Will pay handsomely. No questions asked._

There was a phone number underneath, and Severus found himself strangely amused by the bold statement. While he knew that he wasn't the most attractive of blokes, especially with the giant scar that ran from one side of his throat to the other like a red, macabre grin, his days of being the swooping bat of the dungeons were over. Rather than be unpleasant to anyone, he simply avoided interacting with anyone at all.

Before he lost his nerve, Severus quickly grabbed the flyer from the bulletin board and made his escape.

* * *

Severus wasn't drunk, but he was a bit tipsy when he made his first mistake He sat in his front room, listening to an old jazz record as he sipped on some cheap fire whiskey. He reached into his pocket to grab his wand and summon a book from the shelves when his fingers closed around the folded flyer.

"Maybe I should call," he mused to himself, "just for a laugh, of course."

Severus began to wonder if talking to oneself was a sign of oncoming madness or just a sign that he really should get out more.

"Human interaction is overrated," he countered, letting out a tiny snicker and then scowling at himself for allowing such frivolity to escape his lips. "But still, it would certainly be fun to play a part, if only for a day."

He wasn't sure when his mobile phone made its way into his hand, nor could he remember entering the digits of the telephone number. Suddenly, the line was ringing in his ear, and he nearly dropped it with a startled cry when a woman's voice answered.

Grasping it with both hands, Severus placed his ear close to the phone.

"Hello?" A woman's voice repeated.

"Um...good evening," Severus said, hoping that he sounded more sober than he felt. "I, er, saw your ad, and was wondering if you were still lacking in the unpleasant bastard department."

"Oh!" The woman seemed pleased. "I'm so glad you called!"

Severus felt the warm rush of blood to his cheeks at being the source of such happiness, even as he tried to tell himself to stop getting his hopes up. "Is that so?"

"Oh, yes!" The woman sounded absolutely delighted, and Severus was sure from the sound of her voice that she was beaming from ear to ear. "Can you possibly attend a dinner party on the eleventh? You get free food, and all you have to do is look and act as unpleasant as possible. Do you think you could do that?"

"If by unpleasant, you mean that I'm old and ugly and scarred, then yes, I believe I will do the trick," Severus replied. "I can also ensure that I don't eat a thing for most of the day and inhale the majority of the food if you think it would round out the evening."

"Oh, would you?" The woman giggled over the phone and Severus had to bite his tongue to stop himself from doing the same.

"Who am I to say no?" A part of Severus' mind knew that this was an absolutely terrible idea, but it had been quite a while since he'd made a terrible decision, so the potential awfulness of the situation simply hadn't fully crossed his mind yet.

"Brilliant!" The woman gushed. She gave Severus an address and some directions, which he wrote on the folded sheet before placing it back in his pocket for safe keeping, and then they both wished one another a good evening.

As Severus finished his drink, he raised his glass to the imagined figure of the woman he'd spoken to on the phone, then promptly nodded off with a book in his lap only minutes later.

It was easily the best conversation he'd had in over a year.

* * *

Morning found Severus with a stiff neck and a blinding headache. Luckily he had the potions available to clear up his discomfort, which only left him with the emotional turmoil of understanding what he'd agreed to do. He dialed her number on his mobile phone more than once, but at the thought of her bright, excited voice found that he could not bear to cancel on her.

By the afternoon before their date, Severus found himself in full-blown crisis mode. His mobile rang as he was pacing about in his pants and weighing the merits of simply leaving the country altogether.

"H-hello?" he answered, his voice wavering a bit.

"Are we still on for tonight?" She sounded subdued.

"I...of course," Severus said, his pride preventing him from telling her that no, he would rather be slowly pulled apart piece by piece by a giant squid than have to endure a night of smalltalk with strangers.

"To be honest, I'm starting to get nervous," she confided. "I mean, I'll pay—"

"That's not why I took the job," Severus replied quickly. "I know that your flyer said _no questions asked_ , and I promise not to ask for any details, but I must know one thing."

"Yes?"

"Do these people deserve an unpleasant bastard to ruin their evening?"

She was silent for a long moment and then he heard her make a sound that was akin to a tiny sob. He heard her take a deep breath. "Yes. Yes, they do."

"Then I will be there," he said quietly.

* * *

The house was in a well-to-do Muggle area. Severus began to wonder if he'd gone too far as he knocked on the door.

'Oh well,' he thought, 'I can't turn back now.'

The door opened and a woman opened the door midway through finishing wrapping the end of her braid with a ribbon. "I'm glad you found the place! Are you ready to— _PROFESSOR_?"

Severus sneered, despite himself. Standing before him wearing her hair braided artfully over her shoulder, was none other than Hermione Granger. She'd recently been promoted to Head of Magical Law Enforcement if he was not mistaken. Also, if the churning rumour mill was to be believed (not that he actually _read_ the _Daily Prophet_ , but certain headlines had a way of standing out while he was flipping the pages), there had been a significant falling out between Hermione Granger and one Ron Weasley under unfortunate circumstances.

"It appears that I have accidentally knocked upon the incorrect door. Good evening." Severus turned and tried to walk away without panicking.

"Professor, wait!" Something in her voice—a tiny strained note of sheer desperation—stopped him in his tracks.

"What would you have me do, Miss Granger?" he growled, turning to look down his nose at her. "Play the terrifying Dungeon Bat from your school days? You're a bright witch. You know that it won't work."

"I don't need you to do any of those things," she said with a sniff. "And please, call me Hermione. You are, after all, going to be playing my fiance."

Severus stared at her. His mind tried to make sense of the order of the words she'd used, but he was still reeling with shock.

"First, I need to know if you're in or not," Hermione replied. He stared at her expectantly and she finally let out a sigh of irritation. "Fine. I said that you will be playing my fiance. I've created a fake identity for you as well, and there are some clothes in the guest room for you to wear. You know the sizing charm, right? I can do it for you if you don't know it."

"I am aware of how to use that particular spell," Severus replied shortly, then he took a deep breath and sighed. "Fine. I promised to help you, and I'm a man of my word. But my fee has doubled."

Hermione tilted her head slightly to the side in confusion. "But we didn't discuss payment."

"Fine. Whatever you were thinking of paying me, just multiply it by two," Severus said irritably.

"I will take it under advisement," Hermione said. "So, then, first things first. Your name is going to be Harold Flink."

"Did you throw some darts at a board covered in inane names in order to choose that stinker, or are you secretly a sadist?" Severus asked, deadpan.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I see that you have been practicing your unpleasantness."

"Well, you know, I do need to be in top form," Severus replied.

Hermione snorted. "Well, then. Do you have a better idea for a pseudonym?"

"Just call me Severus," he said. "No surname or title. After all, I am supposed to be disreputable."

"But...that's your actual name!" Hermione exclaimed, looking alarmed.

"And? If my assumptions are correct, your...ex-friend, Mr. Weasley isn't particularly good at names."

"Point taken," Hermione admitted.

"I sincerely hope that your choice of costume for this sordid affair is better than your idea of a code name," Severus commented dryly as she led him down the hall.

A thrill went through him when he heard her trying to stifle another snicker.

* * *

They Apparated to a small, somewhat shabby house. Severus was still convinced that the new jeans with the artfully ripped hole in the knee were a bit much, but as long as there weren't holes anywhere he would rather not display, he could cope. He wore a Norwegian death metal band Muggle t-shirt that was rather tasteless, but then again, that _was_ the point. He'd kept his dragonhide boots, because the last thing he needed was someone stomping on his unprotected feet. His hair was tied up in a half-knot, which made his features appear even sharper and more unfriendly. Hermione had also applied a bit of black eyeliner, which made his eyes seem larger and blacker than ever, and he'd charmed a few shades of tan on his skin.

"So, to reiterate," he muttered out of the side of his mouth, "I'm Severus, we've been dating for two months—"

"Two and a half, actually," Hermione interrupted.

Severus glared at her. "Would you like me to measure that in days, or perhaps hours? Should I know how long this fictitious relationship has gone on down to the second?"

Hermione flushed pink. "That won't be necessary."

"Now, then, where was I? Oh yes. I proposed to you last week during an incredibly expensive, romantic cruise, but I won't give away too many details, as I'm sure even Weasley's dull imagination can come up with something better than anything we could supply." Severus looked down at Hermione, whose cheeks were still burning a bit. "Are you feeling alright, Hermione?"

At the mention of her name, Hermione's cheeks went a darker shade of red, but she nodded her head. "Just a bit nervous."

"This coming from the witch who concocted such a _brilliant_ plan?" Severus gave her a skeptical look.

"Well, here goes nothing." Hermione straightened her shoulders and knocked on the door. Severus squeezed her hand and she looked up at him gratefully before steeling herself and taking a deep breath of her own.

* * *

"Don't I know you?" Ron was sitting across from Severus with a scowl of concentration on his face.

"Don't hurt yourself trying to think of it," Severus replied smoothly. "I've never met you before in my life. I'm sure I'd have remembered that thing you appear to call a hairstyle."

"Oi!" Ron flushed red and patted at the awful amalgam of hairspray and curled red hair that sat atop his head. "This is all the rage on the Quidditch pitch, you know!"

"I'm sure I wouldn't," Severus said, sipping his tea with a sour look on his face. "Especially not if the popular look nowadays is akin to something you'd see atop the head of a poodle."

"WHY YOU—" Ron lunged forward, but was grabbed by the collar and yanked back at the last moment.

"Now, now, is that any way to treat Hermione's new fiance?" A noticeably pregnant Lavender Brown batted her eyelashes at them both and Severus had to force himself not to imagine a cow wearing mascara. "Besides, what would the baby think of your shouting?"

Ron sighed, deflating noticabley. "Yeah, I guess. But what do you even see in this bloke, Mione?" He eyed the gory t-shirt with disdain.

"Ronniekins! We invited Hermione and her fiance over for dinner because we wanted to make everything right," Lavender admonished her husband, then turned to Hermione with an apologetic look on her face. "It's just been a crazy six months, honestly. And I've always felt simply _horrible_ about everything that happened."

Severus looked at Lavender's caked-on makeup and very much doubted the sincerity of her words. No, Hermione had been right. This was not a conciliatory meal, this was yet another trap designed to make Hermione feel humiliated and miserable.

"So, then," Severus purred, "You look simply fit to burst."

Lavender grimaced. "Oh, ha-ha, actually I'm only slightly over halfway there."

"I guess you've still got quite a lot of _growing_ to do, then," Severus said, nodding thoughtfully. He stole a glance to his right, where Hermione was discreetly trying not to giggle into her napkin.

"Oh? Haven't you considered having children, Severus?" Lavender asked.

"Why would I?" Severus replied. "Annoying little bastards, the lot of them. Even yours. Probably _especially_ yours, by the look of things."

"But surely they're not all bad. I mean, you were a child once as well!" Lavender's plastic smile appeared to be slipping, but Severus had to hand it to her—she was trying to hold back her irritation.

"And look how well that turned out," Severus quipped with a smirk.

"Well, for once I agree with you, mate," Ron said, reaching over to grab another olive from the hors d'oeuvre plate and popping it into his mouth.

Lavender, who'd gone a funny shade of purple at trying to hold back her mounting irritation, excused herself to go into the kitchen to grab the roast from the oven. Severus and Hermione shared a knowing look. They didn't need to say anything to know that it was probably a good idea to wait for Ron to tuck into his food first to ensure that Lavender hadn't poured poison over it.

Severus handed Hermione a phial of universal antidote under the table and squeezed her hand when it closed over the small bottle. Hermione looked into his eyes and blushed. For a moment, Severus was struck by how enchanting she looked in the soft light of the candles and he nearly forgot himself. A strand of Hermione's hair had come loose from her braid. He leaned forward, if to tuck it back behind her ear when—

"Gonna kiss her, then?" Ron was watching them, an olive squeezed tightly between his thumb and forefinger.

" _Ron—_ " Hermione started, but before she could say anything else, Severus firmly tipped her chin up and planted a kiss right on her lips, all the while glancing over at Ron with an evil expression.

The horrified expression on Ron's face was worth the fact that Severus was rapidly finding himself enjoying kissing Hermione far too much for it to be purely business. She sighed happily and melted into his lips, which didn't help matters much.

"OI!" Ron's voice was full of rage.

Severus pulled away slowly, his arm snaking protectively around Hermione. "Don't ' _oi'_ me. _You_ were the one who suggested it, _mate_."

With a furious growl, Ron reached into his pocket for his wand just as Lavender opened the door holding the pot roast pan in a matching pair of oven mitts. Severus reached for his own wand, but Hermione was faster and she'd blasted Ron's wand from his hand before anyone could blink. Ron's wand soared high into the air towards Lavender, who screamed and twisted her ankle, sending the steaming pot roast flying through the air. Time seemed to slow down as the trajectory of the molten meat product began its descent, which happened to be right into Ron's lap. There was a loud, wet impact and the sound of Ron's comically high-pitched scream echoed through the dining room. After offering to call St Mungo's and being summarily told to sod off by the wounded Weasleys, Severus and Hermione hastily excused themselves and beat a swift retreat.

"Well, that could not possibly have gone any worse," Hermione said, as they walked down the street.

"Well, at least the she-beast didn't get a chance to give you food poisoning," Severus replied.

"Always the optimist, aren't you?" Hermione smiled at Severus, which made his chest do odd, fluttery things that he didn't altogether hate.

"It beats being dead," Severus quipped. "So, then, I guess that's that."

"Well, we never did eat anything," Hermione said slowly. "Maybe you could join me? I know of this great place downtown. We could slurp noodles and make pithy comments about people we don't like."

"Be still, my heart." Severus made an exaggerated gesture over his heart, but he couldn't help but notice that it wasn't completely an act.

Hermione held out her hand.

"Come on, I promise I don't bite," Hermione said. "Not unless you deserve it, anyway."

Steeling himself and willing his palms to stop sweating, he reached out and entwined his fingers with hers. The corner of his mouth twitched upward into the ghost of a grin as he finally allowed the pleasure of her touch to wash over him. "You know, I think I can live with that."


End file.
